


Comfort

by opalescentheart



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9843635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalescentheart/pseuds/opalescentheart
Summary: Oswald just really needs a hug.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my boo Jen + to Jackie for beta reading! <3

Oswald swipes his thumb over the faded photograph in his hands. “There’s not a single day where I don’t miss you,” he whispers to himself, voice strained and thick.

His shoulders slack downwards a little more, his whole body gripped by an unbearable ache inside of him.

“Oh Mother,” he quietly sobs, hot tears welling up in his eyes, blurring his sight. “What have I done-- this is all my fault.”

“Oswald, you need to sign-”

Oswald’s head jolts up and he freezes, gripping the picture so hard it almost crumples.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ed breathes, eyes growing wide before quickly averting them. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” Oswald croaks, the tension beginning to leave his body. Had anyone else found him like this - displaying weakness like a wounded animal - Oswald would’ve been quick to wipe his eyes and raise his voice, shouting any kind of random order.

He’s learned the hard way to never let anyone know about any kind of weakness he might possess.

Yet with Ed it’s different.

In that moment, Ed clears his throat, lips squeezed to a thin line. The papers in his hands rustle a bit. “I- um, I can come back later if you want.”

Ed is different. Ed is his friend.

“No, please,” Oswald pleads, not bothering to hide even an ounce of the emotion lingering in his voice. “Stay.” He gestures to the empty seat on the couch next to him, his other hand still tightly gripping the photograph.

Almost tentatively, Ed steps closer, placing the papers Oswald is supposed to sign neatly on the wooden coffee table. When he sits down, the leather of the couch squeaks a little, and Oswald longs to do nothing more than just throw himself into the other man’s arms.

He’s sort of forgotten what a hug actually feels like. His mother used to be the only one who ever provided him with those.

So instead, he allows himself to at least lean against Ed a little. A part of him fears sensing the other man tense up or even draw away.

But Ed stays where he is, and Oswald likes to think he can even feel him leaning right back into him.

“I’m sure she would have been so very proud of you,” Ed says, nodding to the picture still clutched in Oswald’s hands.

A small smile tugs on Oswald’s mouth. “I like to imagine she would. I’m the first mayor in our family after all.” With tears still shimmering in his green eyes, Oswald looks at Ed, whose face is only mere inches away. “Maybe she could have even accepted my past?” His voice quivers. “Like my father?”

And this, the reminder of yet another loved one he’s lost, makes his whole face crumble again, hot fresh tears forming in his eyes. “I- I just-”

His voice-- and everything else just breaks.

Before he can even realize it, a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around him.

It’s like a dam inside of him finally breaks. It feels almost like drowning, his surroundings turning blurry and the drum of his blood rushing through his ears blending everything else out. His throat hurts from choking out sobs he’s been trying to keep silent for way too long.

Ed is silent throughout all of it, just giving Oswald shelter in his embrace.

Oswald doesn’t know how much time has passed before he’s finally cried himself out. He almost wishes for it to not be over yet - knowing very well that would mean leaving the comforting warmth of Ed’s hold on him.

In the end, he does pull away. By now his eyes are burning and puffy-red  and he winces at the throbbing pain flaring up behind his forehead.

“Did that help?” Ed then asks, concern written all over his face. He still hasn’t completely loosened his hold on Oswald.

Oswald licks his lips, tasting salt, before he furrows his brows. Did it help?

He had to admit, allowing himself to cry like this,while being comforted, had felt good and liberating in a sense.

Oswald closes his eyes, feeling Ed’s hands still resting on his arms, making his chest boom with warmth. It reminds him of what he felt all those times his mother had held him in her arms, letting him cry out after another horrible day at school.

In those moments with her, nothing else mattered. He had just felt safe.

Opening his eyes, Oswald looks right into Ed’s, finally placing the crinkled photograph of his mother onto the coffee table next to them. He brings his hand up to Ed’s chest, the fabric under his palm still damp from his tears.

“Yes,” he eventually whispers, heart fluttering as he watches the warm smile now spreading on Ed’s lips.

“I want you to know, Oswald,” Ed begins, voice hushed and thick with emotion. “I will always be there for you.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Oswald says before tentatively leaning in, grateful when Ed pulls him into another hug.

**Author's Note:**

> \- also posted on robinllordtaylor.tumblr.com


End file.
